by BobA. Troutt
*****
Dead Limbs and Leaves
When Autumn Falls
Through the briskness of winter, the chilled air begins to warm, opening the buds of the trees and releasing their pleasant fragrance of spring. The air is fresh and crisp with the sounds of the birds chirping, and the smell of flowers stirring in the gentle breeze. The frozen waters of the creek bubbles once more, as the last of winter’s scene flows down stream. A birth of new life awakens from its long winter slumber. The sky is blue, clouds are white, and the meadow is ripe with the abundance of butterflies. The bees dart about, the eagle flies high, and the early morning awakens by the light of the rising sun. Who I ask; who is it that can paint such a beautiful landscape? I say, only the touch of the Master can mix radiant colors and sweet sounds, that fill the air with spring.
As time passes, the frozen bite of winter shall come back, but not for a while. With its icy touch on the buds and its breeze a bit nippy, it will soon pass and summer will come.
As the days press onward, it becomes hotter. The air is filled with heat, becomes heavy, and turns the grass brown. Who, I ask, can paint a picture such as this? Only the hand of God, I pray. Slowly, the ground cracks open, dust fills the air, and leaves begin to wilt. But, the birds still sing. The meadow that once was green and alive is now golden with very few butterflies. I ask myself, will it last or shall it pass? Late in the evening, I hear the cry of a whippoorwill coming across the meadow from the woods.
As the days pass, the air becomes nippy again. The blue sky above is now a light gray. The clouds only streak the sky instead of being fluffy. Slowly, the leaves on the trees begin to turn their brilliant colors, telling my heart autumn is near. The air has chilled once more, and life about me is preparing to rest. It has been good, even if I quit now. The treasures of God’s earthly seasons shall carry me a lifetime. I may not see His face in the dew nor upon the pedal of a flower. I may not hear His song in the falling of the gentle rain. But in my heart, I know God is real. For when the thunder roars and the lightning streaks the sky, I know the Lord sleeps not because God is there. From the tiniest drop of nectar, to the mightiest rushing wind, I worry not for He is in control. His love endures all things.
I may be a blade of grass in a meadow amongst many, a thorn on a rose, or a rock by a creek. I could be dust on the ground that stirs in the wind, or I could be the late frost that comes and goes. But, no matter what I am or what my purpose is, the Lord loves me. I could be a thistle or weed in the field, but He knows me and He cares. Where, oh where, will this day end? Could it be a seed from a daffodil floating in the wind? Or could it be a chirp from a swallow or wren. Who knows? Who can tell? I am nothing but a leaf on a limb. When my time shall come, by the changing of my colors, I shall feel His smile through the warmth of the autumn sun. As the touch of winter stirs in the wind, I know my time is short. But, I thank the Lord I have lived. Who, I ask, can do such wonderful things? I say no one but the hand of God. My body slowly begins to dry and become wrinkled. The beautiful color I had is now over, autumn is gone.
From the wind’s touch I can feel it won’t be long until I am carried away. I’ll miss the freshness of spring and the long days of summer. I regret not that I have lived, for I have lived it to my fullness. I am pleased. I was a small part among many to enhance the Lord’s creation. I may have been but a leaf dangling from a limb, but He thought enough of me to let me be a small part of the meadow. Let it be known, that when autumn falls, I shall be carried away by the breeze of the wind and never come back. If there would be any regret, if there was one, I’d carry it with me because I cannot undo that which I have already done. I gave it my best. I went all the way and I know in my heart the Lord is pleased. As the wind passes, the leaf snaps from the twig of the tree. My prayer is, I pray, I did some good for someone in some way.
